


no such thing as bad weather

by Marks



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Canon Compliant, Developing Relationship, Fire Emblem: Three Houses Black Eagles Route, Getting Together, Getting to Know Each Other, Horseback Riding, Horses, M/M, Minor Injuries, Post-Timeskip | War Phase (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Protectiveness, horseback riding written by someone who probably saw a horse once
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-03
Updated: 2021-01-03
Packaged: 2021-03-12 21:22:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28517094
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marks/pseuds/Marks
Summary: In order to assure Edelgard’s victory, Byleth wants Hubert to learn to ride a horse. Enter Ferdinand.
Relationships: Ferdinand von Aegir/Hubert von Vestra
Comments: 10
Kudos: 117
Collections: Ferdibert Secret Santa 2020 Edition





	no such thing as bad weather

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Elasmosaurus](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elasmosaurus/gifts).



> Written for Elasmosaurus for the Ferdibert Discord’s Secret Santa. Mel asked for Ferdinand teaching a reluctant Hubert how to ride and the calm before the storm, and I kind of combined the two! I hope you like this. It was a real joy to write, even if I did have to intently watch a few beginner rider vids on YouTube. :D
> 
> This is set after the timeskip but when the Crimson Flower battles are still happening, so there are vague references to a couple of those.

Outside, the weather was perfect. The sky was blue, the clouds were fluffy, and the sun shone brightly. That alone should have tipped Hubert off that he was on his way to certain doom.

“Hubert,” Byleth said after one of the sorcery engineers had let them into his office, “are you free for lunch today?” When Byleth asked to go to lunch, it wasn’t so much of a suggestion as a rewriting of any previous plans.

Hubert sighed and put down his quill. “Yes, I’m free.”

Byleth didn’t reveal their hand until most of the way through the meal, just enough for Hubert to think that maybe there was no ulterior motive. He’d been feeling charitable, thinking that perhaps the professor came back from their five-year absence a changed person, and sometimes wanted to have a meal just for the sake of a meal and not for any underlying cause. After all, many of the people Hubert knew had changed drastically in the last five years. But Hubert should have known better.

“I’ve been thinking,” said Byleth, which made warning bells go off inside Hubert’s head. “Your magical skills are amongst the best we have.”

“Thank you,” Hubert said warily.

“But there’s no reason that you have to be limited on the battlefield, right?” Byleth leaned forward in their chair, as though Hubert’s opinion really mattered here. Yes, he was a trusted advisor to the Emperor, but so was Byleth. And for all that Hubert thrived in the shadows, the Ashen Demon was the master tactician in the light of day. “We really should be taking advantage of every opportunity we have. The war has dragged on for years, and I think you want to see Edelgard victorious as much as I do.”

“More,” Hubert said without hesitation. He sighed. “But you know this already, Professor, so can you please get to the point? I will agree to whatever proposal you have in mind if it will help our Lady’s cause.”

Byleth laughed. “Straightforward. I’ve always liked that about you, Hubert. Anyway, as I was saying, of course, your magical skills are top-notch and you’re not bad at handling most weapons, but your movement sucks. You could be going the distance and doing more.”

Hubert schooled his face into a neutral expression, but he could feel the color draining from it. _Please don’t say flying,_ he thought desperately. _Please._

“Riding,” Byleth said, pointing a fork at Hubert. “I want you to improve your riding skills and train to become a dark knight.”

“Riding,” Hubert echoed, trying not to sag with relief. “Yes, of course. I have no great love of horses, but I can certainly see how greater mobility in battle would be beneficial to the Empire. I agree to your plan.”

Byleth leapt from the table, clapping with glee as they already began to run off. “Oh goody! I’ll get Ferdinand right on this.”

Ferdinand? Oh no. “Wait,” Hubert called weakly, but the professor was already gone.

  


* * *

  


Hubert walked to the stables like a man greeting his own death. This would surely be funny if he could step back and take a look at the big picture; after all, he often courted death in securing Edelgard’s rightful place as the ruler of Fódlan. One might even say that he enjoyed it— lurking in the shadows, plotting someone’s downfall, revealing their weaknesses at precisely the right moment. In a way, Hubert even enjoyed the smell of blood. It gave him a sense of accomplishment.

The smell of the stables, however, was another thing entirely. Some of the Black Eagles Strike Force spent all of their time there, coddling the massive beasts as though they were newborn kittens. For the most part, this never bothered Hubert. War horses served their purpose, and if his fellow generals could look the other way when Hubert returned from a mission disheveled, then of course he could ignore the unfortunate realities of a day’s ride. So perhaps it wasn’t the stables themselves that Hubert dreaded so.

The problem, of course, was Ferdinand.

They’d known each other for years— since childhood, in fact, and Hubert hadn’t ever thought much of him, right through their time at the Officers Academy. Yes, Ferdinand studied hard and fought admirably alongside the rest of the Black Eagles, but Hubert saw him as a pampered and coddled little pretty boy who was no match for Lady Edelgard. Hubert had been sure Ferdinand would turn his back on Edelgard and her cause as soon as he realized that she had no interest in maintaining the status quo, and that wasn’t even factoring in what happened to his father. Surely at least filial loyalty would drive him into the opposition’s arms.

But it had never happened. The professor chose Edelgard. Then, one-by-one, the rest of the Black Eagles also chose her— Ferdinand included. It didn’t seem to matter that he lost his land and title. It seemed to matter to him even less that his father had lost all of his power when Edelgard made her declaration of war. He had always said that he wished to become Edelgard’s Prime Minister, and he hadn’t wavered from that cause.

It was, to put it mildly, perplexing. And because of that, Hubert had kept his distance, even as they worked alongside one another. He simply didn’t know what to make of Ferdinand von Aegir.

“Hubert!” Ferdinand called, waving him over. The second day of Hubert’s doom was as beautiful as the first, a calm blue sky and bright orange sun greeting him like a cheery illustration out of a children’s picture book. Ferdinand looked like he fit right into that scene, wearing his riding gear and a smile more dazzling than the sun. But Hubert saw Ferdinand’s face fall as he drew closer. Well, of course, that only made sense. Ferdinand had finally taken in how silly it was to have the two of them working together— to see what a disappointing specimen Hubert was. But all he said was, “Your boots are far too nice for this! Before we begin, let’s see if we have any spares.”

“All right,” Hubert agreed, bewildered as Ferdinand led him by the arm into the stables.

  


* * *

  


Half an hour later, Hubert finally looked presentable to Ferdinand’s eyes. This was a needed clarification because Hubert himself felt ridiculous. The spare boots were all right; supple, worn-in leather with a soft lining. Ferdinand had even found him a pair in black. It was the rest of the outfit that he couldn’t get used to: a blousy, loose top that Ferdinand said wouldn’t restrict his movement, paired with tight, light-colored trousers tucked into the spare boots. It was nothing he would have chosen himself and he felt rather seen, even though they were alone in the stables. But the worst thing about it was the riding hat perched atop his head and buckled underneath his chin.

“Must I?” he’d asked Ferdinand.

“If you do not wish your brains to be scrambled if a horse bucks and throws you from its back,” Ferdinand responded blithely. “When you improve, we can reconsider.” Hubert noticed that Ferdinand said _when_ and not _if_. Someone had confidence in their teaching abilities, it seemed. So the stupid buckled hat remained.

After that, Hubert expected that they’d lead a horse to the paddock to be ridden, but no, Ferdinand made him brush the beast, put on a saddle, and even give it a sugar cube when they were done.

“Why are we rewarding it?” Hubert asked, shuddering as the horse took the cube from his hand. “It’s done nothing but stand here. Do I get a sugar cube, too?”

Ferdinand stroked the horse between its eyes. “If you would like,” he said, nuzzling the horse with his forehead. Hubert rolled his eyes. “But _she_ has been very patient and I should think you want Tranquility in good mood when you’re about to sit on _her_ back.”

That was a decent point, but Hubert couldn’t let Ferdinand know that. “Tranquility?” he asked instead.

“Named for her temperament. I thought she might put you at ease,” Ferdinand said. He picked up Tranquility’s reins and, instead of leading her out of the stable, grabbed Hubert’s hand to place them in his. Hubert had a brief flash of warmth, even through their gloves, but it was gone before he could even fully comprehend it. “Also,” Ferdinand said, nodding at the horse’s black mane, “I thought you two might look good together.”

He headed off toward the paddock then, leaving Hubert struggling not to smile at his back. “How shallow,” he told Tranquility, who whuffled in solidarity, or so Hubert thought.

  


* * *

  


“That’s a coward’s stance!” Ferdinand called to him from the middle of the pen. 

Hubert, who was struggling to sit up in the saddle while keeping hold of the reins and guiding Tranquility in a slow circle around the ring, barely had the wherewithal to be insulted as he yelled back, “What?”

Ferdinand laughed and jogged alongside Tranquility. Even from his precarious perch atop a behemoth ten times his weight, Hubert couldn’t help admiring Ferdinand’s agility and how easily he kept up with Tranquility’s trot. “You’re all hunched over and look terrified. Stop leaning forward so much,” Ferdinand said as he jogged. “You usually stand like there’s a broom at your back, and once you’re on a horse, all of that flies out the window as quickly as an untrained pegasus foal?”

“I do not stand like there’s a broom at my back,” Hubert complained, but he sat up straighter in the saddle, nonetheless. At once, he regained a modicum of control and he couldn’t help but feel begrudgingly grateful.

Ferdinand took his time with the lesson, patiently explaining posture, the proper method of holding the reins, the subtle ways a rider can earn a horse’s trust. By the end of the lesson, Ferdinand had taken Hubert from an awkward walk to, well, an also awkward canter, but at least that was _faster_.

“Today, you have done an amazing job for someone who had little experience with horses, aside from punishments mucking out stalls back when we were still in school,” Ferdinand said, helping Hubert with his dismount.

“Punishments with you,” Hubert reminded him.

Ferdinand laughed. “Yes, I recall,” he said. “I always took a sick amount of joy from knowing that you were suffering far more than I was during those moments.”

Hubert let out a breath when he stood safely on solid ground again. Yes, horses didn’t fly as wyverns or pegasuses did, but they still were very large and Hubert had been up very high. No matter what Hubert did in the name of Emperor Edelgard, he would still feel better with his feet firmly on solid ground. He brushed dirt off his front and straightened up. “You enjoy mucking?” he asked.

“No one really _enjoys_ mucking,” Ferdinand said. “But I did grow up with it.”

“You mean to tell me the scion of the Aegir family didn’t have servants prepare his horses for long rides?”

Ferdinand shrugged. “Sometimes,” he admitted. “But not often. I’ve always enjoyed being hands-on with the things I love.”

Hubert let that hang in the air in between them, unsure of what to do with that information. It seemed that every time he thought he had Ferdinand’s number, something new turned that old information on its head. What kind of spy was he, when he couldn’t even figure out a silly, horse-loving noble? And why did that intrigue him so? Hubert was a mystery even to himself sometimes.

“What are you doing after this?” Ferdinand asked, still holding Tranquility by the reins.

“Returning to the pile of work in my office, which has assuredly grown larger while I was off gallivanting with you.”

“You call this gallivanting?” said Ferdinand, smiling. “Well, since you’ve already tarnished your workaholic reputation by completing a task that also benefits your work, surely you can wait around for a few minutes while I finish exercising Tranquility.”

“To what end?” Hubert asked curiously.

“To the end where human beings need to eat.” Ferdinand mounted the horse in one smooth motion, and even though he had seen Ferdinand ride into battle dozens of times, Hubert still admired the action. “Will you wait around so we can eat lunch together? I’m sure only forty or fifty new tasks will find their way to your desk in the meantime.”

“A trifle,” Hubert agreed, feeling the corners of his mouth twisting up. “I suppose I can find the time.”

Hubert stood back as Ferdinand took Tranquility through her paces, leading her into the bigger field adjacent to the practice pen. He couldn’t help but slant himself against the fence, leaning forward as he watched Ferdinand take her into a gallop and leap over the obstacles as easily as one might roll out of bed. Surely, it didn’t matter that his posture was poor while he was just watching.

  


* * *

  


Something of a pattern emerged between them in the weeks that followed: Hubert would have his lesson with Ferdinand, and then they would go for lunch or tea afterward. Hubert, bone-tired from being put through the equestrian paces, still found himself engaged in many heated debates about how their fledgling government should be set up or the best strategies on the battlefield. There was just something about the excitement in Ferdinand’s voice as he passionately defended finding the best and brightest people in all of Fódlan to nurture their talents.

The excitement in Ferdinand’s face was something to behold as well. His eyes would light up and his cheeks would stain themselves pink; whenever he was defending something with particular fervance, he’d shake his head, sending copper hair flying in all directions. The whole picture was, in a word, fetching, and Hubert found himself cursing Byleth every time Ferdinand’s image would present itself unbidden in Hubert’s thoughts. Every time they met, Hubert knew he was in too deep, but somehow he couldn’t bring himself to hoist himself out again. Instead, he applied himself to his riding, trying not to seem too pleased when Ferdinand praised his progress, and dove a little deeper.

On this day, Ferdinand had told Hubert that he was finally ready to ride a horse into battle. Hubert scoffed at the notion and somehow that had led into a tangent about how to convince the remaining nobles to best conserve Fódlan’s natural resources, Ferdinand insisting that appealing to their sense of duty would be enough. It was hopelessly naive, which was Ferdinand’s way; Hubert, for his part, never had much faith in the world or the people in it, but he couldn’t help but enjoy such a pure and simple outlook on humanity. 

Hubert complimented Ferdinand’s optimism, saying he exceeded even the Emperor in that regard, and Ferdinand grew suddenly bashful, telling Hubert to write any further flattery into a letter. Hubert agreed, trying not to laugh at Ferdinand’s request, but that bit of shyness was rather becoming on him. He found himself wanting to compliment Ferdinand again and again, and the realization shocked him into silence, making their formerly lively conversation lapse. The quiet between them grew strained and awkward until Hubert simply couldn’t keep quiet any longer.

“Ferdinand,” Hubert said, just as Ferdinand said, “Hubert,” which made them both laugh. And just like that, any unfortunate tension dissipated, though something in the air crackled between them still.

“You first,” Hubert insisted.

“All right. Hubert,” Ferdinand said again. He hesitated, which wasn’t like him. “Hmm. Um. I have wanted to ask you something for quite some time, so I suppose I will just come right out and say it.” He took a deep breath. “Would you like to accompany me to dinner tomorrow night? No riding lesson beforehand required!”

Hubert blinked in surprise. “Don’t we spend enough time together already?”

Ferdinand laughed, and it sounded a bit forced. “Of course, of course,” he said. “My deepest apologies. I should have realized that these meetings were purely work-related and you would not wish to meet with me outside of them. Which is fine! It is only that of late I have found myself greatly looking forward to our lessons and wishing to speak to you outside of them, but I suppose I will have my way in that regard soon enough.” He puffed up his chest, reminding Hubert of the boy he used to be instead of the man he’d become. “After all, we will work together very closely as Prime Minister and the Minister of the Imperial Household, so there’s no reason to indulge outside of a professional capacity, and—”

“You’re babbling,” Hubert interrupted.

“I suppose I am.” Ferdinand let out a sheepish laugh. “My apologies,” he said again. Then he sighed and looked down at the table, twiddling his thumbs while avoiding Hubert’s gaze.

Hubert didn’t like that reaction. He realized he wanted Ferdinand’s eyes on him again, the same way they always were when Hubert rode Tranquility or when they argued about the best place to situate healers on a large battlefield. He cleared his throat. “I think you misunderstand me,” Hubert began slowly, reaching across the table so that his gloved fingertips just brushed against Ferdinand’s. Ferdinand quickly lifted his head again. “I only say that because it comes as a surprise that _you_ would want to spend more time with _me_.”

“Oh, but why would it? You’re a fascinating conversationalist,” Ferdinand said, and then it was Hubert’s cheeks that burned. When the full meaning of Hubert’s words hit Ferdinand, his eyes went wide and round. “ _Oh_. So it’s a yes?”

“It’s a yes,” Hubert agreed, his heart thumping hard in his chest.

  


* * *

  


It was hard for Hubert to fully comprehend, but he was now relatively certain that he and the future Prime Minister were on a date. Even inside his own head, he realized this sounded stupid; Ferdinand had asked him to an outside location, purely for the pleasure of their mutual company, and Hubert had agreed. They’d even run into each other hours before their assigned meeting time, exchanging gifts that they’d bought one another. Hubert had made a right fool of himself in front of Ferdinand, something that was beginning to become quite the habit, but Ferdindand — dear, sweet Ferdinand — had only been delighted with the tea Hubert had given him.

They spent much of the afternoon together, even though that hadn’t been the plan, and as afternoon bled into evening, they parted merely to freshen up before being reunited. 

The time apart had been something akin to torture. All right, not actual torture, with which Hubert was intimately familiar, but a sweet sort of torture where Hubert’s thoughts were filled with Ferdinand’s face, of their long days in the stables, of Ferdinand’s steady presence as Hubert turned Tranquility from a mere beast to something that would serve as a partner in battle one day.

“You are extraordinary,” Hubert found himself saying over their meals, and the deep pink that dyed Ferdinand’s cheeks, visible even in the low candlelight that accompanied dinner, made it so Hubert didn’t even regret not being able to hold his tongue.

“I have done nothing to deserve that,” Ferdinand said, tucking a lock of hair behind his ear, and Hubert opened his mouth again to protest when the restaurant doors burst open.Five soldiers came traipsing in, troops from both his and Ferdinand’s units, which indicated nothing good. They both stood from their dinners immediately.

“General von Vestra, General von Aegir,” one of Ferdinand’s men greeted them, giving each a short bow. “There has been a situation.”

“A situation?” Hubert said impatiently. “Clearly it’s more than that, or you wouldn’t have interrupted our meal.”

The soldier nodded. “You both must return to the monastery at once,” he told them. “Garreg Mach is under attack.”

  


* * *

  


“We await your orders,” Hubert told Byleth, who nodded and ran off to confer with the Emperor. The Vestra Corps crackled with magic, ready to attack, and for the first time the cavalry joined them. Byleth’s suggested combination of mounted and magical units was a simple kind of brilliance, causing Hubert to swear under his breath at their ingenuity. More movement for dark magic meant it could be cast to far reaching corners of the battlefield, and it was such an obvious advantage that he cursed himself for not having thought of it himself. He knew the next time they fought the Church, if there was a next time, he would ride in on Tranquility and make them all sorry they’d ever opposed Lady Edelgard.

Ferdinand rode up to him, pulling on the reins of his steed and looking every bit the knight in shining armor. “Are you ready?”

“As I’ll ever be,” Hubert said grimly.

“Good,” Ferdinand said. “Please be careful because I fully intend to finish our meal together as soon as possible. Do you understand, Minister?”

“Of course, General Aegir,” Hubert said, trying to suppress a smile. It wouldn’t do to be grinning like an idiot as he fought enemy forces— although perhaps it would be appropriate. After all, he was often told his smile was more frightening than his anger. He decided to lean into it as he moved to fight, keeping Ferdinand in his thoughts as he attacked.

A few months ago, Hubert hadn’t known if the tides of the war would turn in their direction, but Byleth’s return had certainly changed the attitude of the Empire’s forces. It was reassuring to see Byleth orchestrating their movements and the members of the strike force supporting them to the best of their abilities, which indeed were the very best. There was Caspar flying high overhead on a wyvern with Petra’s pegasus at his flank. Hubert could sense Dorothea’s dark magic clear across the battlefield and Linhardt’s healing, too, so precise and efficient, despite his claims of laziness. Bernadetta was more deadly at a distance with her bow than most of the Church’s forces were even in close combat, and of course even though Hubert dutifully advised her to stay far from the fray, it was always bloody poetry to see the Emperor swing her axe and take off the heads of men thrice her size. They had assembled quite a collection of generals, and Hubert’s confidence in them was seemingly never-ending.

Of course, that failed to mention Ferdinand. Because Ferdinand running an enemy through with a lance was enough to leave Hubert’s mouth dry. There were no appropriate words for that situation, and it only made Hubert determined to end this as soon as possible.

The crackle of miasma left his fingertips as Hubert spun to face another opponent. That’s when he spotted it: Ferdinand surrounded on all sides by the enemy’s cavalry and by several wyvern riders above, a clearly planned attack to take out one of the Empire’s strongest fighters. Despite Hubert’s unit fighting alongside Ferdinand’s, the General had gotten quite far from Hubert’s reach. In the messy heat of the battle, there was no way for Hubert to reach him on foot or gather enough of Ferdinand’s troops to explain the situation. 

“Damn it!” Hubert shouted, at the same time as one of the Vestra Corps sent a Thoron spell in the direction of a Church soldier, sending the enemy tumbling from his steed. “Leave the horse!”

“Yes, sir!” the Vestra Corps member called. She fell back as Hubert ran ahead, hoping the horse wouldn’t buck an unfamiliar rider.

 _Remember what Ferdinand taught you_ , Hubert thought, as he mounted the horse quicker than he had in any of his lessons. He took control of the reins and steered the horse around, leading it into a gallop at such a rate that Hubert’s head spun, but the steed followed with aplomb. Usually, loyalty was a trait Hubert found admirable, but in this case, he was glad for its lack and was just relieved that the horse obeyed him.

Despite how outnumbered he was, Ferdinand was doing a commendable job fighting from the inside-out, but Hubert knew there would come a time where he was too injured or exhausted to continue, so he had to act fast. Once he reached the outskirts of the melee, he was encouraged by Ferdinand’s relieved “Hubert!” and the two of them began to take down the assembled forces. It worked— for a time; as Hubert cleaved his way toward Ferdinand as the fight began to turn in their favor, a brilliant burst of magic suddenly exploded overhead with Ferdinand directly in its path. 

With one last push on the stolen horse, the only thought in his head saving Ferdinand, he put up his palms to counteract it and didn’t even see it when the lance of the enemy’s cavalier got him in the side. Pain bloomed fast and furious and he had no time to think before the Church’s horse that had never heard of loyalty reared up and threw him.

The last thing Hubert heard as he crashed to the ground was Ferdinand screaming his name once again. His eyes closed and Hubert nearly smiled. As far as the last thing he’d ever hear went, Ferdinand’s voice wasn’t the worst. If only he hadn’t sounded so afraid.

  


* * *

  


There was someone speaking nearby. For some reason, Hubert couldn’t respond or move and his vision was dark. 

_“—Please go back to your own room—”_

_“—Ferdie, you look terrible. You need sleep—”_

_“—Shall not move from this spot until he wakes—”_

_“—Ferdinand, please. Linhardt thinks that could be days—”_

_“I will wait.”_

Things continued in that regard for a time. Hubert would hear a voice, something familiar, always one that made him feel warm, urging someone to eat or rest, but try as he may, he could not make himself speak. 

This time, not only was there dark, but pain. Everything felt as it had the time he was ten and fell into the lake outside the Adrestian Palace, the shock of the cold making him inhale and take in a lungful of water. His father wasn’t there to rebuke him after a palace guard dragged him from the water this time, though, leaving only a dull, throbbing ache in his side. His head, he thought, felt fuzzy.

Hubert groaned.

“Hubert?” A noise, like the scrape of chair legs against a stone floor followed his name. Then, closer this time. “Hubert!”

That voice he knew. Hubert remembered a horse and a spell and sharp blooming agony. Hubert remembered Ferdinand screaming for him before the world went black, too.

Hubert groaned again, which was followed by the sound of footsteps retreating from him and the loud creak of a heavy door flung open.

“Fetch a healer immediately!” Ferdinand shouted and moments later the footsteps were headed back in Hubert’s direction. He would have smiled if the world wasn’t swimming away again.

  


* * *

  


“Wake up, Sleeping Beauty.” This was a new voice, laconic and amused. “We know you’re in there.”

Hubert’s whole body felt suffused with warmth and the lingering dull throb in his side subsided completely.

“Come now, Hubert,” the voice continued. “Ferdinand is vibrating next to me and frankly it’s very distracting.”

“Oh! My apologies.”

“Personal space is important.” Hubert’s darkness lightened some, the grey overcast of early morning. There was a pause. “But look, his eyes are opening.”

Linhardt’s indifferent face swam into view, though as Hubert struggled to move, his expression turned to a frown and he pressed his palm to the center of Hubert’s chest. Suddenly, Hubert was reminded of the time he passed out from exhaustion and Linhardt carried him to safety. 

“Stop struggling, you complete pill,” Linhardt said, pressing lightly on Hubert’s side. Hubert hissed, anticipating pain, but none came. “You’ve been unconscious for two days as the healing magic worked its way through your system, and now you’re trying to get up like it’s nothing? No wonder you took a lance in the side.” Linhardt shook his head. “Anyway, your wound has closed and there’s no scarring. You’re welcome. Now I really must get back to my nap; I was having the nicest dream. I leave you in Ferdinand’s capable hands.”

Linhardt waved over his shoulder as he left, shutting the door behind him. That was when Hubert realized he was in his own room, in his own bed, and completely alone with Ferdinand von Aegir, who was seated at his bedside.

When Ferdinand grew out his hair, he said it was out of a lack of care over his appearance, given what had happened with his father and the Aegir lands along with the upheaval in the empire. At the time, Hubert remembered Dorothea teasing him about it, saying no one achieved so much volume on luck alone. Hubert hadn’t given it much thought, beyond pretending not to acknowledge that Ferdinand’s beauty only grew as his hair had— his beauty and maturity and confidence, really.

Now, though, Hubert knew what Ferdinand looked like when he was truly unkempt. His hair was unruly, yes, but that was nothing compared to his haggard expression, dark circles under his eyes, and the stubble, two shades darker than the hair upon his head, rough across his chin and jaw. Hubert wished to say this made Ferdinand unattractive to him, but that was a lie. It might have only improved his looks, getting to see a celestial being reveal his human side. Besides, Hubert highly suspected he didn’t look so hot himself.

Hubert cleared his throat, harsh with disuse. “Are you all right?”

First, Ferdinand looked stunned, and then laughed, full and throaty. Hubert had a suspicion that was the first time he’d done that in a number of days and felt proud of himself, even if laughter hadn’t been his intention. “I’m all right,” Ferdinand confirmed, swiping his hand across his eyes. “I would probably be better if someone hadn’t thrown himself bodily in front of a lance for me, but I cannot deny that I needed the assistance.” 

“Have you been here the whole time?” Hubert asked.

Ferdinand looked away. “Most of it.”

Hubert struggled to sit up in bed some, managing it this time. “What does ‘most of it’ mean? Have you been to your rooms at all?”

“We don’t need to talk about me right now!” Ferdinand said. He fixed his eyes on Hubert again and his face went serious. “I just wanted to thank you.”

“I didn’t do anything,” Hubert insisted. 

“Oh, Hubert, I can admonish you over all the ways that statement is incorrect later,” Ferdinand said. He gestured to Hubert’s desk, which was in far more disarray than Hubert remembered it. “I have an entire speech written out and you _will_ listen to it.”

Hubert bit his lip and nodded. “Of course, Ferdinand.”

“But I’m just so relieved you’re all right.” Ferdinand let out a gusty sigh and stood from his chair, looming over Hubert. “I was so worried. You were so brave and rode that horse magnificently. And now I am in your debt.”

“You aren’t,” Hubert said. “I was merely defending a comrade-in-arms. I would have done it if I’d seen any of our generals in danger.”

“I know.” Ferdinand smiled and leaned over the bed. “That is just one more thing I find attractive about you.”

“Attractive?” Hubert said, surprised, then became surprised twice over when Ferdinand bent down, close to his face.

Ferdinand kissed him once on his temple and then another briefly on the mouth, then pulled back, his face nearly as bright as his hair. Hubert tried to follow when he pulled away, but Ferdinand sat back in his chair, out of Hubert’s reach. 

“I cannot say never throw yourself into the fray again, given how empty those words must sound coming from my mouth.” Ferdinand smiled grimly. “But do not die unless you want me to exact very bloody revenge on all those responsible.”

Hubert swallowed, a shiver running down his spine at Ferdinand’s fierce expression. “I shall do my best.”

“See that you do.” Ferdinand’s expression melted into something warmer again, one that looked completely at home on his face. “Now, what do you say about having the kitchens do something about finishing our interrupted dinner from the other evening?”

Hubert could no longer suppress his smile in the glow of Ferdinand’s sunshine. “I’d like nothing more.”

  


* * *

  


The Tailtean Plains were on the horizon and Tranquility seemed, well, tranquil about the whole thing. The battle would be a hard one, but Hubert felt uncharacteristically optimistic. The group pulled up to a stop; here was where they would all part to get into their assigned positions. Ferdinand rode up alongside Hubert and reached over to briefly tangle their fingers together.

“You look like you belong there,” said Ferdinand, admiring Hubert decked out like a dark knight.

“Horses are too high off the ground for me to belong here.” But he straightened in his saddle just the same. He was forever grateful to Ferdinand for his help, and a wave of feeling washed over him as he glanced over at Ferdinand’s beaming face. “Best of luck, General Aegir.” He cleared his throat. “You, ah, also look very fetching today.”

“Writing, Hubert,” Ferdinand reminded him, going pleasantly pink. He turned his horse then, riding off to join the rest of his cavalry. “Come out of this alive! Or else!”

“Or else what? That’s an empty threat if I ever heard one, and I am an expert,” Hubert muttered to Tranquility, who whinnied in agreement. He gave her a sugar cube for her correct response. “Good girl.”

He watched Ferdinand go for a moment and began to direct his sorcerers. He had a good feeling about this battle— a good feeling that not only were the Plains on the horizon, but Adrestia’s victory as well. After all, the weather was perfect. The sky was blue, the clouds were fluffy, and the sun shone brightly as Ferdinand’s smile.


End file.
